Our Asylum
by HongKong1624
Summary: How far would you go for safety? How much would you take? How little would you give? Evolution of Liv and Amanda's relationship. Starting in Season 13. Slow burn. D/s themes but plot driven.


Olivia rubbed Amanda's back softly, feeling the hacking sobs reduced to quiet sniffles. She kept up a gentle pressure as she felt the limp muscles in Amanda's lithe body start to strengthen.'Shhh, it's okay angel, we're not in any rush' she cooed softly. Amanda let out a squeak that was half way between a whine and a cry before she tried to push herself up from her position hanging over Liv's lap. Her ass hurt, no scratch that, it was burning and felt like the top layer of skin had been flailed right off, her head was pounding too and the quiet was ringing in her ear in contrast to the heavy staccato of Olivia's punishing palm that had rang out only minutes earlier. Amanda felt exhausted but she also felt a deep sense of calm as the memory of what had just happened settled.

'Liv' she whined in annoyance, that wasn't what she wanted to come out! She tried once again to push herself up. This time, she succeeded and fell heavily against Olivia's side. Olivia wrapped her arm around her narrow frame, squeezing her close. She kissed her forehead gently, using her left hand to push the hair falling in front of her face before trying to catch her eye. Amanda looked up, almost in awe, through wet lashes. She leant up deliberately kissing Olivia softly. She loved her and the feeling of safety she brought. She smelt warm and familiar and like home. Leaning forward, Amanda rested her forehead against Liv's tanned skin and smiled delicately, she felt herself flush with embarrassment at the memory of the proceeding few hours and dropped her gaze.

'Hey, now, we don't need that' Olivia scolded gently, encouraging her eyes back up 'You're so special, Angel' Olivia murmured tenderly. She kissed her again before drawing back slightly, 'You okay?'

 _Three years earlier_

Liv tried to brush past Amanda as the new transfer introduced herself formally in the middle of the squad room. Liv rolled her eyes and pivoted on the spot, arms swinging, the hair from her pony tail flying softly in front of her face. The overly formalised use of police prefixes bothered her. She eyed the young blonde before her, her hair was pulled up and her white tee shirt seemed both a little too big and to emphasis her youth. She was irritated that Amada was here, especially after the last time they had met. 'Look, great, I haven't yet briefed the Captain' Liv bustled officiously practically sprinting before the Captain's office.

Their introduction had come weeks earlier when her mentor, Melinda, had called her to the House. Liv had first met Melinda when she was a junior in college. Shannon, the first girl she had ever slept with, had been seeing the Dominant for nearly a year when she met Liv. At first, Liv hadn't understood, she thought it was sick, disgusting, stupid. But it felt tempting and dangerous and intoxicating. When Shannon had explained to her that she was going to be staying out one night because she was going to be "punished" for flunking a class, Liv had shouted, raged and threatened to go to the police. Liv had done none of those things; but she had ended it. But five weeks later, through a combination of too much cheap wine and some decisions she would no longer argue were questionable, she had ended up on her knees in front of Melinda.

In Melinda, Liv had found an adult she could trust. For the first time in her 21 years she no longer felt the constant dread that the world could upend at any moment. The sense that crisis was around the corner was, for the first time, abrogated. Instead, she realised, somewhat uncomfortably, that by submitting to Melinda's over-worked rules and routines she felt like she was living. Liv no longer was living for the escape that her studies offered, or the thrill of binging and purging. She no longer had to bend her truth to appease her mother, or entertain her friends, or impress her professors. She could just be, and it was enough.

Melinda had been her first and only Domme. The relationship hadn't ended but the dynamic changed. When she joined the 16th Precinct, they had been involved for nearly eight years. Melinda had given her a confidence that had transcended out of the bedroom. She started switching soon after her transfer and had taken on her first submissive two years later. Melinda had never uncollared her, but the relationship had matured. She knew that Melinda would still pull her into line if she felt like it, but the obligation was not on her to respond, and truthfully now those times were few and far between. Liv had been busy first with Alex and then with Casey, but since Casey's censure and subsequent move out West she hadn't been serious with anyone in the scene. So Melinda's decision to call her on a Thursday afternoon and arrange a tea at the House had been a little out of the ordinary to say the least.

Grosvenor House was a notable brownstone in Murray Hill. The House served as the centre of New York's D/s community and the building retained the formal sense of order that the neighbourhood had known in the early twentieth century. As the House became more popular and its members more numerous , the neighbourhoods descent into a yuppie, raucous hotbed for new graduates fresh to New York had been advantageous. Allowing the House to retain its anonymity in a once quiet area. The House had now spawned several other locations across North America. As Olivia strode up the shallow steps she was waved in by the ever present security guard. She pulled on her coat a little, loosening the grip she had on the belt as the warmth of the House calmed her and pushed the frigidity of the March day away.

'Liv' Melinda called to catch her attention, standing up to greet her one time submissive and now mentee. Olivia kissed her cheek politely before Melinda placed her hand on Liv's lower back, encouraging her closer before leading her up to her room at the top of the House. 'How was work?' the doctor enquired conversationally as they ascended the four flight of stairs.

'Fine' Olivia intoned automatically, almost resenting having to leave work early. Well she didn't have to. But she had wanted to. She didn't need to face Melinda to see the disapproval in her lack of a "proper" response. 'It was long, I didn't sleep well last night, Elliot's still' the pregnant pause was telling.

'Look, you'll hear from him soon. He's got to give Cragen a decision soon' Melinda opened the door to her airy top floor suite 'have a seat' she encouraged, indicating the teal sofa that sat adjacent to the window. She closed the heavy oak door behind her, and her eyes fixed on the younger woman. Olivia looked smaller somehow, her eyes a little too bright, as she sat back against the sofa back. She had pulled the decorative cushion onto her lap and was fingering the yellow fringe softly. Olivia might have been a Domme herself for nearly ten years but to Melinda she would always be her good girl, the twenty one year old who had brokenly admitted that she just wanted to be loved and had risen so elegantly ever since. At work, Detective Benson might lead the enquiry but here, in the House, in Melinda's rooms, she knew that wasn't required of her. Unless she wanted it. Melinda waited for Olivia's hands to still before she sat down.

'I have a, I guess suggestion, that I wanted to float with you' Olivia bit back the sardonic response and merely nodded 'Do you remember Vicki Atherton?' Olivia looked blank, despite having a vague memory of a blonde Mistress from down South, Florida maybe.

'How do you know her?'

'She's respected in the Southern circle, she's on the Board of the Georgia House' referring to Grosvenor's network. 'You remember her?'

'a little' the urge to just say why was only withheld by her years of training with the woman.

'She trained a girl, a couple of years ago now. She's a cop'

'great' Liv replied unemotionally. She was sure that Melinda hadn't dragged her here to tell her this.

'She was involved I guess you could say with one of her superiors, it was meant to be purely discipline, but somewhere that line slipped and well, I'm not entirely clear on the facts, and you would have to ask her yourself, but she's been transferred to SVU'

'So she's going to be Elliot's replacement?' whilst having someone involved in the scene at work could potentially be awkward, it wasn't like it was a path Liv hadn't trod several times before.

'She's not going to try and replace him. That's not actually why I called you here. Cragen will obviously introduce you both at work. I would like to set up a scene between the two of you'

Liv blinked owlishly, surprised at the change of pace 'I'm sorry, what?' it wasn't the first time Melinda had made this suggestion. But her head hadn't been in the scene recently and she wasn't feeling like making the effort required for the scene. 'No, I don't sub anymore' Melinda remained calm watching Olivia's ranting. Once again, Liv had put two and two together and made seven. 'I cant believe you hauled me out of work to request this, honestly of all the things you could ask, I don't know why you would think this is appropriate'

'Are you finished?' Melinda asked firmly, making it clear that this wasn't much of a question. Liv had the sense to look chastened, having heard the warning in the older woman's tone. She mumbled an apology but held herself stiffly, not completely willing to acquiesce control. 'I said between the two of you, not with the two of you.'

'I don't know, I don't know her' Liv reasoned rationally. 'Have you played with her?'

'No, but I've seen her do a couple of scenes with Vicki a while ago, I thought about introducing you before but you were with Casey. I think it could work out, you have a lot in common'

'What because we're both cops, gay and into this? I commend you on your match making ability' Liv responded dismissively, tilting her head to the side.

'Watch it. You have a lot in common. I'm not saying oh here are the only two gays I know, lets match make.' Liv still didn't look impressed. Melinda could feel her hard stare and could sense her mentees unease. However, 'I'm not saying the pair of you should hook up or anything like that'

'Good because I left "hooking up" in my twenties'

'Look Liv, I'm not going to tell you what to do. I'm merely suggesting you give a scene a try, I know you miss it' Liv's lack of reply was a clear sign of her agreement 'Look, I've said you'll meet her for a drink this evening. Just talk to her, see if you might potentially be interested'

'Fine, well I'm not scening with her tonight'

'Clearly, you wont have time to draw up a contract or properly go through anything' Melinda knew Liv would go, and she had a feeling that the two of them would end up doing more than one scene. Liv was a natural Dom: she was selfless, compassionate and fiercely protective. But more than that, she built her subs up and she listened, but Melinda knew that the most successful relationships, and indeed what had made her and Liv work, was that grounding of friendship and respect. If they had that, it would work.

'I suppose I should go get changed, I could do with a shower'

'Of course'

Liv started to get up, feeling herself being dismissed. She briefly surveyed the room which held so many memories, for twenty years this room had been her safe zone. Her eyes flicked to a small silver frame on the bedside table, it was the first photo of the two of them together. Liv smiled lightly at the memory, her hair was longer, curling at the ends which touched just above her elbows and there was something innocent about the image. She was sat on Melinda's lap, the older woman's arms wrapped tightly around her middle and her neck craning around Liv to give her a chaste kiss on her temple. Her smile was wide and her eyes were bright and red, but she was grinning shamelessly up at the camera.

'I love that photo' Melinda said softly coming to stand next to the younger woman. 'You were so scared before'

'Wasn't' Liv said blushing bashfully, Melinda made a non-committal noise as she picked up the frame, wiping the non-existent dust from the screen. It was the first night she had publicly taken a paddle to Olivia, discipline for something she cant now remember. 'You kept saying you were proud of me, it was the first time I'd heard it'

'I was, I still am' she put the frame down before turning to face Liv properly, studying the deep brown eyes and the unhappiness that lined them. She trailed her hands up and down Liv's arms in a comforting gesture 'give her a go, and if you don't like her, or there's nothing there, it's no matter'

'when and where am I meeting her' Liv intoned in a bored voice. Melinda chuckled.

'8 downstairs, Amanda by the way'

'uh?'

'Her name, sweetie'

'Guess I might need that' Liv turned to looked at her watch, 'I should be going'

'Have a nice evening, make sure you get some rest this weekend' Melinda said crossing to the door and opening it, she held the door open as Liv grabbed her armed lightly-

'thanks' Liv said earnestly. As the door shut behind her she leant softly against it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, just what was she doing?

Amanda sat at the bar nursing a nearly empty pint. Her leg seemed to be moved independently, shaking up and down in anticipation, stretching and releasing her jeans as she hunched over her phone, checking and double checking that she had the right time. She had arrived at Grosvenor's New York house early, nearly forty five minutes early in fact. It wasn't like her, but she couldn't stand the empty apartment for much longer. Her blond hair was pulled back into a low pony, and was tucked into edge of the red plaid shirt she was wearing over the top of her grey tee. She had so much invested in this meeting, she had heard about Olivia Benson for years, both in the scene and at work. She had read every case the detective was involved in and had stalked every Facebook picture she could find. She could tell you where she went to college, Sienna, what sorority she was in even what car she drove, an old Mustang. She had even found a clip of a speech Olivia had given at a police conference in Chicago some years ago, buried on the fourteenth page of a YouTube search for 'New York Police detective AND speaking'. It had soon become her favourite film, all two minutes thirty seven seconds of it. She had awkwardly seen the view count rise from its initial 136 views, to its current total of 312. If Amanda was a perp, she would be looking into the stalking. But as it was herself, such condemnation was not visible.

Amanda couldn't believe that Vicki had managed to get her this meeting, and she was determined not to screw it up. She had left Atlanta quickly, and in somewhat of a disgrace, and she was looking for redemption. A rebirth of sorts. She knew whatever Olivia wanted she would give her. Vicki had warned her to be sensible about this, had reminded her that her last relationship was an abusive cluster fuck. But Vicki's warnings had fallen on deaf ears.

As she lifted the glass up to her mouth, she felt something shift. She froze, putting the glass down as she felt herself turn to the entryway where blue eyes met brown for the first time.


End file.
